


The Miracle of Kirkland Suite

by ivynights (incantatem)



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Christmas, Hanukkah, Holidays, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 20:49:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incantatem/pseuds/ivynights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mark and Eduardo’s UST levels become unbearable, Dustin decides a holiday miracle is needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Miracle of Kirkland Suite

**Author's Note:**

> -Written for moogle62 for the tsnsecretsanta challenge - I did my best to merge your happy, Christmas-themed fic request with our angsty, Jewish charactered canon, and this is what came out, ahaha. I really hope you enjoy and happy holidays! (Can I have a holiday cookie from Eduardo’s bakery in return? ;) )
> 
> -Thank you ever so much to my beta laria_gwyn for her sharp eye and sweet personality. <3

Dustin is supposedly studying for a biology exam - fucking gen eds - but in reality he’s contemplating his best friends’ unresolved sexual tension while twirling a dreidel with his right hand and flipping textbook pages with his left.

Twirling a dreidel isn’t a euphemism, by the way, and neither is flipping textbook pages, because _ew_. That’s _Mark_. And _Eduardo_. Granted, Eduardo at least looks like he showers once a day (not that Dustin really has room to judge), but, still, _ew_. Can we not.

Mark’s been out of the dorm for almost 48 hours now and, ergo, so has Eduardo. Dustin knows Mark’s in the lab, finishing up a CS project he’s procrastinated on all semester. He’s not sure where Eduardo is. Probably off feeding food to orphans or shopping for cufflinks or something.

Chanukah fell early this year and tonight’s the last night. For a holiday supposedly all about the miracle of light, Dustin has witnessed a sad lack of holiday miracles taking place within his dorm room these past eight days. He was hoping the light theme would inspire a lightbulb to go off over one of their heads, but, alas.

Chris comes into the room, whistling under his breath, cheeks pink from the cold. He hangs up his scarf and backpack on a hook and kicks Dustin’s sneakers over to his side of the room.

“How’s the studying coming along?” Chris asks.

“It’s not, really,” Dustin says mournfully.

Chris _tsks_ and flicks him on the shoulder before dropping down into his desk chair and getting distracted, opening up his laptop.

After a couple of minutes, he starts whistling again. The tune sounds kind of familiar, actually. Dustin starts using it as a pneumonic.

During his sixth mental round of _kiiiiiiiiiingdom phylum! class order family genus!_ it hits him.

He tosses a sock at Chris’ back. “Are you singing _Frosty the Snowman_?”

Chris picks the sock off his shoulder with two fingers, throwing it into Dustin’s trashcan.

“Hey!”

“I wasn’t singing,” Chris says.

“Whistling, whatever. And I need that sock!” Dustin casts around for something else to toss at Chris, but comes up empty handed.

“You _need_ to keep it in the garbage. Or put it in the laundry at least.”

“Don’t change the subject. You’re _caroling_ , Christopher.”

Chris’ nose does that funny, scrunchy thing it always does when he’s caught out. “It’s not my fault! The caf was streaming the Christmas music station.”

“Why?”

“How am I supposed to know? Maybe they thought they would distract everyone from exams by spreading the holiday cheer.” Chris grins. “Someone put mistletoe up by the cereal stand. There was a bit of a scene.”

Dustin slams his hands down on the table, knocking over the dreidel. It lands with the gimel facing up.

In the first week of their acquaintance, Chris might have looked up with alarm. But that was then.

“What now, Dustin?”

“Lightbulb! Epiphany!” Dustin spreads his arms wide and accidentally knocks a bunch of pencils to the floor.

“English?”

“Mistletoe! Mark! Eduardo! Finally!”

“I don’t think you can trick them into making out,” Chris says. He hasn’t even looked up from his laptop.

“I can and I will. Watch me. I will get them into the Christmas spirit!!”

“You’re crazy, Dustin.” Chris looks up now, affectionately despairing.

“Crazy like a fox. A Christmas fox.” Dustin makes some sort of vaguely-fox related hand gesture, like the world’s most pitiful attempt at shadow puppetry. “Oh my god,” he says, “this will work brilliantly!”

“There is no such thing as a Christmas fox,” Chris protests. “Do you mean a reindeer? Also, did you just do the macarena?”

Dustin ignores him.

Chris throws a textbook at him.

*

Later that afternoon, Dustin googles “Christmas traditions” and clicks on the first hit. The website loads a long list of countries. He clicks on “Christmas in the United States of America” and pulls “Christmas in Brazil” up in another window just for kicks.

The website reads:

[Christmas celebrations vary greatly between regions of the United States, because of the variety of nationalities which have settled in it.](http://www.santas.net/aroundtheworld.htm)

Dustin scrolls down. Apparently, Pennsylvanian Christmas traditions involves things called “putz” and “belsnickle,” in Alaska they pay homage to a pineapple, and Californians get Santa riding in on a surfboard.

“Hey, Chris,” he calls, still giggling. “Did you know Boston is famous for carol singing?”

“Shut up,” Chris says.

“I’m furthering my education!”

“More like attempting to scheme.”

“You know, as the only member of our little foursome that worships at Santa’s feet, you could spread the wealth.”

“That almost sounds kinky. Also, what?”

“Teach me about Christmas!”

“No.”

Dustin sighs exaggeratedly, and turns over to the “Christmas in Brazil” webpage.

“Do you think Wardo knows Brazilian folk dancing?” he calls out.

“Eh. I know he’s taken capoeira lessons though.”

“Iiiinteresting,” Dustin says, continuing to click around the web. There are a million Christmas websites out there. He gets sucked into some sort of red and green vortex and stays there until Chris’ phone going off from a text pulls him out of it.

Dustin looks around, head fuzzy. “Screw this,” Dustin decides. “We’re having Christmas in Kirkland.”

“What, are you going to plan something for the 12 Days of Christmas?”

“No time!” Dustin says. “Everyone goes home for Winter Break next Tuesday.”

“12 Hours of Christmas, then?”

“Maybe... I need to think,” Dustin thinks, out loud, as he tends to. “And I need a beard to stroke whilst I do so.”

“Not even going to ask,” Chris says.

“No need to. You’ll find out soon enough.”

*

Dustin shows up to the last-night-of-Chanukah dinner at AEPhi in his Santa beard.

“That is borderline offensive, you know,” Jacob says, from Dustin’s left. Dave is on Dustin’s right, cracking up.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“What desperate times?” wheezes out Dave. "Finals period?"

 _I am trying to lure two of my best friends into having manly sex with each other_ , Dustin thinks, then amends, _well, Wardo would probably cry tears of happiness, but._

“No. It’s really cold out. The beard’s surprisingly comfortable,” Dustin lies. “And it’s keeping my chin warm.”

“Ever heard of a scarf?” Jacob asks.

“I have a Gryffindor one back in my dorm!” Dustin grins.

“Figures,” says Jacob. Dustin’s always thought he was kind of snotty. _Slytherin_ , he thinks, and manages not to say it aloud. He leans over Jacob instead, grabbing the last sufganiyot and giving Jacob a pseudo-bloody smile, bits of jelly doughnut oozing through his teeth.

Dave cracks up again.

*

He heads back to Kirkland and plops down on the couch next to Chris, who’s watching Animal Planet.

Chris gives him crazy eyes and pokes at his beard with one finger before turning back to the TV.

“Ugh, I’m full,” Dustin says, patting his stomach. “Also, I think I have beard burn. Honestly, Chris, how do you stand you?”

Chris looks sickened. “Okay, you did not just ask me that.”

“What?”

Chris visibly shudders. Then he says, “Mark’s back.”

“What! Finally.” Dustin bounces up and wanders into Mark’s room without knocking.

Mark’s sitting in front of his laptop like always, but his headphones are lying on his desk unplugged and he kind of looks like he’s staring into space.

“Hey, Mark! Your project almost done?”

Mark nods, distractedly. His eyes look clouded over. He should really be asleep right now, Dustin thinks, _fantastic_. Sleepy Mark is the only persuadable version.

“Hey, come join us in the living room. Eduardo just stopped by.”

Mark looks around, dazed and confused, like if Eduardo were in the suite, the only place he’d be is in Mark’s room. To be fair, it’s true.

“He’s talking to Chris and then we’re gonna watch a movie," Dustin says. "Come join us.”

Mark shrugs and follows Dustin out, looking around.

“Where’s Wardo?” he asks. Chris shrugs without a word, giving Dustin a funny look. Always has his back, that Chris.

“Bathroom,” Dustin says. “Sit down.”

Mark curls up on the edge of the couch, too tired to effectively look suspicious. Dustin is trying to think about how best to broach the topic of _you know, you and Eduardo really need to get laid. by each other. immediately_. when the door opens and Eduardo actually walks in.

“Impeccable timing as always, Wardo!” Dustin says.

Mark brightens, in a still sleepy sort of way. Then he looks at Dustin and narrows his eyes. “But I thought... bathroom...?”

Eduardo exchanges a quick hello with Chris and makes a beeline for Mark, ignoring Dustin completely. “Mark, are you okay? You look confused. When did you last sleep?” He even puts a hand up to Mark’s forehead, as though checking for a fever.

Mark distracts him from his mollycoddling by launching into a story about the utter pointlessness of group projects and how idiotic everyone else in his class is. Eduardo somehow manages to look enthralled. Dustin notes Mark hasn’t actually ducked away from Eduardo’s hand, which has made its way from Mark’s forehead down to his shoulder.

It is beyond absurd at this point.

“Hey, you know what would be great right now?” Dustin interrupts, talking to the room at large. “Food!”

“Sounds good to me,” says Chris with a shrug. “But I thought you just ate?”

“No worries, I’m like a hobbit,” Dustin says. “Wardo?”

“I could go for some dinner.”

“Maaark?”

Mark ignores him.

“Come on, Mark,” says Eduardo, squeezing his shoulder. “You have to eat sometime.”

Dustin notes how his eyes have gone all big and shiny. Fucking… woodland creature puppy eyes. Some guys have all the luck.

Granted, some guys are crazy enough to be in love with Mark Zuckerberg, so. One point to Moscovitz.

“Fine,” says Mark with a sigh. He gets up from his chair and Eduardo hands him the neglected jacket hanging off a post of Mark’s bed, which is probably where Eduardo left it last. “It’s snowing outside,” he says, with a pointed look.

Mark sighs again, shrugs it on, and says, “C’mon, Wardo,” before leading the way out of the suite. They tilt heads together, resuming whatever conversation they were having before Dustin interrupted. Chris and Dustin bring up the rear.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Chris says in an undertone.

“I didn’t expect you not to,” Dustin protests cheerfully. “In fact, this makes you my accomplice!”

“Oh, great. Just what I asked for this Christmas,” Chris says and scrunches up his nose.

*

In the caf, they find a table to drop off their coats. The dulcet tones of _Jingle Bells_ fills the air.

Dustin surveys the scene, rubbing his hands together.

A sudden “whoop!” catches his attention. Two girls are surrounded by a ring of other people at the cereal stand. They break away, one with pink cheeks, the other grinning widely.

Dustin looks around, but finds his targets have sadly disentangled for the moment. Eduardo’s standing in the line at the salad bar. Mark and Chris are over at the homefood zone.

“It looks like the love child between mashed eggplant and a mud pie, but with gelatinous properties,” Mark says, gesturing at the "food" before him.

Chris laughs.

“What in the what now?” Dustin asks, coming up behind them.

“We’re debating the merits of today’s mystery meat offering,” Chris says.

“Verdict: It has none,” Mark supplies.

Dustin has to agree. It looks like it might be moving. Also, it’s sort of… purple.

“You know what sounds really good right now? I mean, like really fantastically delicious?” Dustin asks.

“A strong Margarita,” says Chris.

“Manna,” says Mark.

“Manna?” asks Chris.

“Old Testament. Wandering in the desert for 40 years. Food falls from the sky, tastes like whatever you want, no prep involved,” Mark explains.

“You would pick the laziest food in existence,” Chris says.

“Hey, they had to do a lot of walking,” Mark says.

“You know there’s probably no wifi in the middle of the desert,” Chris says.

“Not the point!” Dustin interrupts, before they can really get going. “The point is – _cereal_! Oh, wonderful cereal!”

“Mark’s lactose intolerant,” says Chris.

“What are we talking about?” asks Eduardo, seemingly out of thin air. Dustin whips around. Eduardo’s standing behind him, tray of salad and cup of fruit punch in his hands, looking at Mark with a pointless smile on his face.

“Dustin’s trying to convince me to have cereal for dinner,” Mark says.

“Mark’s lactose intolerant!” Eduardo says, shifting his gaze to Dustin with an accusing glare. No one who has actually selected fruit punch to drink should be able to pack that much disapproval into one look, but Eduardo manages it.

“I didn’t - I wasn’t trying to _poison_ him or something. Stop looking at me like that!” Dustin sputters, hands raised, warding him off.

Mark smirks, grabs some pasta, and leads Eduardo over to their table.

Dustin gives the cereal stand one last longing look and follows them.

Dinner proceeds without incident and they debate the relative merits of watching “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” or “The Muppet Christmas Carol” when they finish up.

*

On the trek back to Kirkland, Dustin finally cracks. It’s started snowing, thank you Harvard in the wintertime, and Eduardo has actually lured Mark into huddling into his jacket together for warmth. Each claims they’re only doing it to help the other out; Mark, with his lack of proper outerwear (even the jacket Eduardo forced him into is apparently not sufficient enough), and Eduardo with his Miami Brazilian lack of toleration for the cold.

At the point when Eduardo slips off one of his gloves and slips it on to Mark’s hand, saying, stupidly, “There, now we match!” Dustin’s had enough.

“Oh come on, already!” he shouts, darting in front of the MarkandEduardo Creature of Outerwear, forcing them to acknowledge him.

“Dustin,” Chris warns, sensing imminent breakdown.

“No. No. This is just ridiculous. And I thought it was bad when my Nana had a crush on the old dude in her nursing home! I had to play match maker for old people! She kept forcing me to check that there weren’t stray bits of spinach in her dentures.”

“Mark, I think he’s finally lost it,” Eduardo says.

Mark smirks up at him, like that was the cleverest observation of all time.

Dustin flaps his arms between them. “You - just - oh - COME ON.”

“Let’s at least do this somewhere warm,” Chris says. Everyone ignores him.

“Do what?” Mark asks, suddenly wary. He gives Dustin a considering look. “What are you implying, Dustin?”

“I’m _implying_ that you need to make Eduardo your forever girl officially already! This is ridiculous! You two are worse than Ron and Hermione!”

They both go pink. Dustin hopes they don’t try to pass it off as just an effect of the snow.

Eduardo looks almost abnormally wide-eyed.

“Dustin!” Mark practically growls. His face has gone flaming red. It’s rare to get any sort of emotional reaction from Mark, but Dustin suspects he lashes out when he’s embarrassed. Well, and many other times too, but especially when he’s feeling vulnerable.

“What are you going to do, Mark, punch me? If so, please use the gloved hand so it cushions the blow.”

“No one is punching anyone,” Chris says. “Guys, can we please take this back to the room, at least?”

They quickly walk the rest of the way back in silence. Mark and Eduardo have awkwardly disentangled, but Dustin notes Mark still has the glove on.

Inside the suite, Mark marches straight into his room and slams the door. Eduardo hovers outside of it, clearly not knowing what to do.

“Chris,” Dustin commands, pointing a finger toward Mark’s room. “Go teach Mark the meaning of Christmas. Eduardo, you’re staying here with me.”

“By ‘Christmas’ do you mean ‘the wonders of gay sex’?” Chris asks. Eduardo chokes.

There is an evil glint in Chris’ eye.

“Begone, heathen!” Dustin cries.

“Wait,” Eduardo starts, but Chris enters Mark’s room and closes the door behind him before Eduardo can get out the rest of his protest.

“Dustin,” Eduardo says, “he’s not really going to...” He trails off, looking uneasy.

“Worry not, fair maiden, your boy’s virtue is safe with Chris, he only likes muscley dudes.”

“ _Fair maiden_?” Eduardo repeats. Dustin notes he doesn’t correct the “your boy.”

“Don’t doubt yourself, Wardo, you’re very pretty.”

The expression on Eduardo’s face is kind of hilarious. He looks like he just bit down on a lemon.

Eduardo ignores that comment, choosing to add, “And Mark is... muscley.”

“Please. And I mean, like, buff dudes.”

“He fences!” Eduardo insists.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Dustin says, shaking his head incredulously.

Eduardo colors but crosses his arms over his chest, stubborn. “You didn’t want him to punch you.”

“Well, who wants to get punched?”

“You shouldn’t have said that, Dustin. It doesn’t concern you.”

“Trust me, anything involving the two of you unfortunately involves both Chris and me. We live here, remember?”

Eduardo twists his lips, but changes the subject. “Are we watching this stupid movie or not?” he says.

“Hold your horses, Eduardo, one Christmas movie, coming right up.” Dustin gets up and slips in the DVD and the conversation trails off.

After a little while, Chris and Mark come out of his room. Chris grabs the other single chair, leaving Mark to sit on the couch beside Eduardo.

He does, and the two of them play a ridiculous scooting-closer-while-not-acknowledging-it game for a while until Dustin gets up, grabs some pretzels from the kitchen and casually flips the lights off on his way back to his seat.

By the end up the movie, Eduardo has actually fallen asleep on Mark’s shoulder.

“Shh,” Mark whispers, as Dustin and Chris rise and start to put the snacks away. “Don’t wake him up.”

“ _Really_?” Chris says to Mark, eyebrow raised. “You don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Mark glares at him, but when he looks back down at Eduardo, his eyes are soft. Chris grabs Dustin by the shoulder and pulls him into their own room, leaving the lovebirds to it.

Around midnight, there’s a knock on the door. Dustin pokes his head out of the room. Eduardo’s still sleeping on Mark, face now mashed into his neck. Mark’s still awake, now glaring at the door so hard he looks like he’s going to shoot out laser beams out of his eyes.

The knock comes again. Eduardo starts to stir. Mark looks down at him, panic flashing on his face, arms jerking slightly like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

“I’ll just see who that is, shall I?” whispers Dustin.

He attempts to tip-toe past the couch, but trips over his own sneakers that he left there earlier, and causes a stack of Chris’ textbooks to crash to the ground.

“What’s going on?” Wardo slurs, semi-conscious, accent bleeding through.

Aw, crap. He woke Wardo up. Dustin takes a moment to thank every deity he knows of that Mark doesn’t actually have laser-eye super powers.

Dustin gives it up as a botched job and whips the door open, light from the hallway streaming in.

There’s a girl there. A pretty one, too: petite, brown hair, cute cat-eye glasses.

“Hi!” she chirps. “Is Mark here?”

Behind him he hears Eduardo say, sounding considerably more awake, “Is that who I think it is?”

“Um, who are you?” Dustin asks.

“Laura. Mark’s project partner? I have to drop some papers off with him...”

Dustin doesn’t dare look back to check in on the couch situation. Plus, this is getting awkward already. Laura’s eyebrows are steadily inching up her forehead as the seconds tick by.

“So... is he here?” she asks again.

Mark comes up behind him. “Yeah. I’m here.”

Laura brightens in a way that girls don’t often do around Mark.

“Oh hey! I was wondering if I’d gotten the room wrong after all.”

“You’d have to be pretty stupid to do that. I told you my address correctly.” He sticks out a hand. “Papers?” he demands, typically brusque.

“Jeez, Mark,” Dustin says, still feeling awkward. “Don’t be such a sweet-talker.”

Amazingly, unfairly!, Laura gives _him_ a weird look, and transfers the printouts over to Mark.

Mark nods to Laura and disappears back into the suite without another word.

“Sooo...” Dustin says. Laura’s got a Beatles shirt on. “How ‘bout that Ringo then?”

“Great segue,” Laura says, sounding distinctly unimpressed. “Yeah, I’ll just be going now.”

“Okay!” Dustin shuts the door, half in disappointment and half in relief. He turns around. Chris has come out of their room and is lingering by the mini-fridge, grabbing a bottle of water.

Mark and Eduardo seem to be telepathically communicating in some kind of standoff.

“Laura?” Dustin asks.

“CS project partner,” Eduardo supplies, sounding sour.

She’s the reason why Eduardo hasn’t gotten on Mark’s case about procrastinating, Dustin realizes, gleeful. He doesn’t want them alone together.

“Wardo,” Mark says, then stops. He shoots Dustin and Chris a weird little look, then scoots closer to Eduardo.

“Come on, Dustin,” Chris says. “We hadn’t finished reading the Jurassic Park IMDB trivia yet.”

Dustin allows himself to be tugged back into their room.

A few minutes later he hears a crash, then a thump, then the sound of lips smacking.

“Holy shit,” Chris says. “Did they really just-?”

Both of them are up and sneaking around the doorway in an instant.

Mark’s got Eduardo pinned down on the couch, kissing the breath out of him.

“Chriiiiiiiis,” Dustin whispers, “help, help, I need you for impulse control right now.”

But Chris’ brain has gone offline as well. “Ohmygod ohmygod,” he seems to be repeating. “Ohmygod! Man, they look really hot.”

“Ewww,” Dustin tries to say, but it comes out oddly high-pitched and breathy.

Dustin and Chris lock eyes, then shake themselves out of it and hurry back into their room.

*

The next day, Dustin decides to throw them a Christmas Congratulations!!! Party. He tells Chris about his plans.

“I’m taking all the credit,” Dustin says.

“I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with you at all,” Chris says, staring down at his notebook, writing something furiously.

“You’re just jealous of my mad matchmaking skills.”

“No, Mark just kind of lunged for him. We both heard it go down.”

“Spoil sport.”

“Dustin, I need to study.”

“Why is everyone at this school so stressed out about grades?”

“Don’t try to act like you don’t study when no one is watching.”

“Meh,” Dustin says, “I won’t tell you about my epic plan then.”

“Please don’t,” says Chris.

Dustin has to wait until nighttime to implement his brilliant idea. The rest of the day is spent on edge, attempting to study for the damn exam on Monday while Chris shoots him dubious looks out of the corner of his eye.

Mark and Eduardo have disappeared. Dustin thinks they snuck off to Eduardo’s single, but he isn’t asking questions.

They all grab dinner together that night, and, aside from Mark and Eduardo acting sickeningly in love, nothing notable happens.

Chris falls asleep early and Mark and Eduardo disappear into Mark’s room. No one will be seeing them until tomorrow morning.

 _Excellent_ , Dustin thinks, and runs his fingers together in a prize-winning Mr. Burns impersonation.

*

The living room turns into a repository of flora overnight.

 _Falalalala_ , Dustin thinks at 4 AM, sounding a little hysterical even in his own mind. He places more mistletoe around the door frame, then stands back to admire the transformation. Every inch of the room is covered in green. There wasn’t enough mistletoe to do all that, of course, so Dustin had to improvise.

He lies down on the couch and waits for everyone to wake up and to admire his handiwork. The couch is not very comfortable but somehow his eyes slip closed anyway.

“What the fuck?” comes Eduardo’s voice, jolting Dustin out of a dream. He opens his eyes and punches a fist into the air, shouting, “MISTLETOE!”

“Are you kidding me,” Chris says. “This had better be a dream.”

“More like a nightmare.” That’s Mark’s voice. Looks like the gang’s all here.

Dustin sits up and peers over the edge of the couch. Everyone’s wide-eyed. Dustin takes advantage of their momentary speechlessness to toss a bunch of silver tinsel into the air.

“Do those pine cones spell out ‘Congratulations’?” asks Chris.

“Dustin, where did you even find dandelions this time of year?” asks Eduardo.

“Forget dandelions, I think that one’s a marijuana plant,” says Mark, pointing.

A voice down the hall calls out, “Who stole my cactus?”

A voice in Dustin’s mind gives out an evil cackle.

Eduardo has to leave the suite until the dandelions are gone because apparently he’s allergic, who knew. Chris volunteers to take them out and Dustin has to sit on Mark’s legs to keep him from fleeing the room. He only stops squirming when Eduardo comes back into the room and then he takes advantage of Dustin’s momentary distraction to kick him to the ground, then go and sit next to Eduardo on the couch.

 _So obvious_! Dustin thinks with glee.

“This is utterly ridiculous,” Mark says. Dustin wonders if he knows there’s tinsel stuck in his curls.

They’re sitting so closely together on the couch even a tiny Christmas elf couldn’t squeeze between them. One of Eduardo’s hands is resting on Mark’s thigh, flicking the zipper on his open hoodie back and forth. Dustin can feel the sexual tension in the air rising to previously unfelt volumes and wonders if he hasn’t made a grave error in getting his friends to hook up.

“I’ll just go wait outside for Chris then, shall I," he says before running out the door.

When Chris gets back, they open the door cautiously. Mark and Eduardo are both still on the couch. Eduardo looks distinctly, unusually rumpled. Mark just looks smug.

“IT’S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!” Dustin shouts, throwing more tinsel in the air. “MAZEL TOV!”

“You’re ridiculous, Dustin,” Eduardo says.

“ _Me_?! You two are the ridiculous ones! That took way too many months to happen. Don’t make me and Chris go through that again.”

“Go through what,” Mark says, stubborn.

“Your pigheaded blindness,” Chris says. “It was pretty awful.”

“But now you’ve given in to your soulmate status and we have something to celebrate!” Dustin says. “Lucky for you, I looked up Christmas traditions on the Internet.”

He pulls out a bag of ingredients he stashed in the closet and sets about setting up the feast.

"Home Alone" is playing on TV and they have a good time.

After the credits roll, Dustin clears his throat, holding his eggnog in the air. “In the spirit of the occasion, I would like to propose a toast! On this holiday day of joyfulness, we should all say what we are thankful for.”

“This is a pre-Christmas post-Chanukah celebration, Dustin, not Thanksgiving,” Mark says.

“Nevertheless!” Dustin continues, undaunted. “Personally, Chris, I am thankful that you will debate the merits of T-Rexes with me. Mark, Eduardo, I am thankful that you two finally got your act together. And also that you did it relatively quickly because I really could not handle any more days of attempted Christmas celebration.” He throws the saran-wrapped fruitcake he purchased. It bounces off the ground. “I miss latkes.”

“And gelt,” Eduardo says, lamentful.

“And Red Bull,” Mark says, staring down at his eggnog with distaste.

Eduardo throws some tinsel at him.

“Red Bull has many valuable properties, actually,” Mark starts, a familiar rant to them all. “Did you know that-”

Eduardo grabs him behind the neck and kisses him to shut him up.

Dustin does a little dance. Even Chris can’t hide his grin.

When they pull apart, Mark looks a little dazed. His eyes fix on Eduardo’s lips, which are curved up in a smile.

“Gee, Mark, if I knew that’s all it took to shut you up-,” Chris starts.

“Don’t even think about it,” Eduardo glares.

Chris cracks up.

“Oh, shut up.” Eduardo turns back to Mark and scrunches up his nose. “You taste like eggnog.”

“Don’t blame me!” Mark protests.

“You can blame me!” Dustin sings. He takes an overlarge sip of his eggnog and starts coughing. Chris pats him on the back.

“We always do,” says Mark. He curls his hand around Eduardo’s on his thigh, and Eduardo buries his face in Mark’s neck, smiling widely.

*

Eduardo goes home with Mark over Winter Break.

On New Year’s Eve, Dustin texts both Mark and Eduardo:

 _u r totally making out when the ball drops, dont even deny it_

A few hours later he gets a reply from Eduardo:

 _he tastes like champagne this time_

Dustin texts back:

 _hahahahaha tmi dude_

Mark answers:

 _we are busy right now if you do not stop txting wardo i will end you_

Dustin responds:

 _marky u know u love me_

No one ever responds to that.

*

Dustin texts Chris:

 _Falalalala they r still hooking up, I win_

Chris replies:

 _1, you are too invested in their sex life. 2, pity they didn’t take even longer to get their act together, you could have played Cupid on VDay_

Dustin throws his phone down on the bed in excitement. Chris is _brilliant._


End file.
